Joining The Family
by Spin-Firestorm
Summary: How did Ravage end up joining Soundwave's tapes? Pre ArkEarth, nothing to do with War Within. Set as PG13 as I didn't know how to rate it, some nameless NeutralsAutobots will be killed. Chap 2 is up.
1. Part 1: Into

_This story is based on the 1986 UK Annual story 'State Games', and tries to explain how Ravage ends up being one of Soundwave's Casseticons. Although this fanfic is based on the afore mentioned story I believe this fanfic can be read with out any prier knowledge of the UK annuals or the comic in general. P.S. Don't expect too many updates on this ¬_¬ my Uni studies tend to take up way too much of my time._  
  
**Joining the Family by Spin**  
  
**Part 1: Intro.**  
  
The fumes of the burning bodies tickles and stings my nose as I walk through the former battlefield, watching for survivors. The smell of the spilt and alight bodily fluids makes me want to loose my own energon, such a sickly, sour smell of death and destruction. Yet, at the same time it has a sweet warm aroma to it, that makes me feel strong and proud, we have accomplished what we had set out to do, so what if every Autobot at this city had been sent to meet Primus. They choose the wrong side and death is their punishment for that mistake; as it will be for every other creature, Cybertronian or other wise, that crosses our path.  
  
A flicker of light to my right catches my optic, a gentle sniff confirms my suspicions; not all Autobots had been killed there are still a few survivor lurking in this molten cemetery. I ease my way in to the cover of the deeper shadows, my body becoming one with them, as I silently make my way around the obstacles between me and my target. My fuel pump starts beating stronger and faster in anticipation of the upcoming kill. My imagination starts to provide me with possible scenarios of how this kill could be achieved; a quick shot with one of my missiles, splattering the unfortunate individual all over the surrounding area, but that wouldn't be much fun and would also waste an entire missile on one worthless Autobot. No, the best way to deal with this worthless scrap pile will be to take them down in a more personal manner, my mouth starts watering with this idea, and the promise of tasting another's energon just before they die arousing the predator instincts within me even more. One more piece of debris and I'll have a clear line of attack to my prey.  
  
My target is now in sight. He is tall, but badly damage and his leaking fluids only serve to heighten me sensors, to intensify the thirst for this mech's energon running down my throat, to amplify my ever-growing predatory hunger for the kill. His once green colour charred almost beyond recognition, shredded pieces of metal clung to his back where his former wings had been blasted off, his left arm mangled into a useless mess; this is going to be an easy and fun kill to complete.  
  
I lower my self to wards the ground, getting myself in a more comfortable striking position. Keeping my body low I edge my way silently forward towards my victim. Now I can see him better, smell the ever so sweet smell of his increasing fear as I continue to approach undetected. His frantic optics searching the burning graveyard for possible friends or foes, but he's looking in the wrong direction and now makes the fatal mistake of turning his back on me. I shift may weight on to my hind legs, then propel my self forward as I pounce on the unsuspecting Autobot before me.  
  
My front paws connect first on the shoulders, back paws quickly following to imbed them selves in the small of his back. All claws extended fully now, ripping through the already damaged metal on his back shredding the delicate circuitry underneath.  
  
"Aarrrrrr..." The sharp, violent, scream ripping its self from his vocal unit was delightful to my audio sensors, my enjoyment of the kill doubling every moment the scream lasted. The scream stops as he hits the ground full on his face.   
  
The shock of the initial assault is now wearing off; he manages to throw me off. As I land gracefully on all four paws I spot him twisting around, gun materialising in his hand, aiming for whatever had hit him. Instincts taking over, I pounce at him again this time claws slicing deep in to his wrist. Another energon curdling, scream tears its way from his mouth, as a follow-up strike causes both gun and hand to fall to the ground. I drop back to a stalking position low to the ground, out of his attack range, but in full view of my intended victim. He now regards me with terrified, pale-blue optics, mouth agape, gasping for air to keep his energon filters working; one more strike should finish this pest off for good.  
  
I snarl once, bearing my teeth, pouncing one last time. What remained of the other's arms come up to meet my assault, but my momentum carries me to my objective. My jaws grip his throat, crushing the air intake and rupturing the tubes in the neck carrying his energon. The sweet taste of processed energon filling my mouth, the warm sensation of it running like a river down my throat exhilarating and relaxing me all at the same time. A single gasp is all that escapes my victim's vocal unit as his body goes limp. I released my grip and walk away from the dead mech, liking the last of the energon from my lips, as I go.  
  
As I walk on, watching and listening as only a spy can for anymore worthless Autobots, I saw many bodies of both Autobots and Decepticons, though I'm proud to see there are a lot more Autobots laying in this decimated city than fellow Decepticons, but we had suffered through this assault. Yes, the battle was won, victory is ours, but at what cost? The casualties are high, we lost nearly a third of the assault force to the pit this day; and I don't doubt even more will join them, from the medical stations, before the day is through.   
  
It wasn't just cannon fodder we lost today either. Several of the primary assault's more senior officers fell in today's battle; six group leaders have had their sparks terminated, as well as two tactical experts, the forces main communications officer and the heavy-artillery-commander Dreadlock. High casualties indeed; the troops we lost from our own group will need to be replaced.   
  
I wonder who from our vast army will be given the privilege to serve under Megatron him self. And will those selected be worthy of such an honour and be capable of performing their duties to the standard Megatron requires; or will they be more power-hungry young up-starts, like Starscream. Why Megaton ever made him air-commander is beyond me; but it is not my place to question my leader, only to ensure that those close to him won't be tempted to try and undermine him in any way, shape or form; well, with the permitted exception of the air-commander.  
  
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T.B.C. in Part 2: A brief encounter 


	2. Part 2: A brief encounter

_Amazing, I'm actually updating this thing :D Sorry no action in this chapter, normal warning: Don't expect any updates anytime soon I get easily distracted – usually by others' fics ;-)_

**Joining the Family by Spin**

**Part 2: A brief encounter**

The floor is cold and hard; made of a purple metal that has long lost its once flawless, smooth, reflective surface due, to ware and tear of thousands of metallic feet trampling across its surface every planetary cycle. The metallic purple walls have faired a little better, shinning softly in the light of the corridor, trying to remove the shadows in which I dwell, but having minimal success.

Even as my metal paw pads down on the metal floor I make no noise, and as soft white and reflected purple light rays strike my ebony coloured body as best they can I continue to prowl the shadows unnoticed. It is how I prefer it, and now that there are so many new faces flooding the base, it is how I choose it. Rounding a corner I hear the unmistakable screech of our 'beloved' air-commander's voice.

"Fellow seekers you have all been greatly honoured in your assignment to this unit. This is Megatron's personal army of Decepticons. For which he leads the ground assault, while I, air-commander supreme, lead us mighty angels of change in sawing high above, cleansing the way of the misguided for the glory of most righteous Decepticon army."

Only experience stops me snorting at his words. Though it is clear why he's talking with such an enlarged ego. Gathered around him are a flock of about 15 young seekers, eager to hear the words of the 'greatest' of all seekers. Going by the lack of dents and the shine of the paint covering their armour I'd say they are probably fresh out of the academy. So of course they want to meet the legendry star student of the war academy, former speaker for the Vos council, though picture boy would be a better description, but they'll learn. If they live, they'll learn not to believe what comes out of Starscream's vocaliser, after all he is a politician.

Having seen enough of Starscream's ego trips in the past, I continue to wander down the corridors, watching the plotting, fights and general interaction of the other Decepticons. It seems we've acquired a real mix of fresh faced graduates from the war academy and war hardened, battle experienced warriors to replace those we lost in the last battle.

'I think I'll get a copy of the personnel files of these new recruits and transfers, just in case something has been 'overlooked'.'

Silently I make my way to the elevator that will open just down the corridor to the central command centre on the command floor. Approaching the elevator I see another mech, one that I am unfamiliar with, waiting for it's arrival on this level. The empty elevator opens to admit him entry. Upon his entry, however, the doors do not close. He just turns to face me, waiting? To my surprise I realise he is waiting on me.

As I enter the elevator I her his monotone voice.

"Level required?"

Stopping for a moment I allow my gaze to drift to the control panel and notice that the command floor has already been selected. I look back at to this unknown mech then proceed to the back of the elevator and sit down facing him. He watches me for a moment in silence before coming to a decision, then turns, pushes the button required to make the doors close and the elevator to travel to the desired level.

We travel in silence. I watch him, but he does not even move, fidget or make any attempt to engage in communication. He just stands there facing the door, unmoving, but not tense nor slobbery. He has given me more acknowledgement than most, yet shows none of the supremacy of those who do not know of me would; nor does he show the fear or concern for himself most who do know of me do.

'Interesting, few others have ever reacted to me in this manner, who is he?'

His form looks strong, but there are no indications of a vehicle mode; and no wings to suggest an aviation one. He is mainly dark blue with the exception of some easily overlooked highlightings. The combination of a silver face mask and red optic visor hide any facial features from view. Definitely different from the loud colour schemes of most Decepticon warriors; yet, the Decepticon insignia is clearly and proudly displayed in the middle of his chest.

The elevator stops and the doors open to reveal the command level. He moves forward with a glance over his shoulder at me. I stand and follow him down the hall to the central command centre.

'Now what does he want here? Only high ranking officers come here to submit their reports to the senior staff, and he bears no reports or datapads that I can see. Most curious.'

Entering the central command centre, he glances around looking for something, or someone. I slip into the shadows, provided by the various computer consoles around the room, to observe the proceedings. Near the centre of the room Megatron turns to see the new arrival.

"STATE YOUR BUSINESS!"

Immediately his attention is on Megatron. Straightening, he states in that monotone voice "Communications officer – Soundwave: Reporting for duty, Lord Megatron."

"You have your transfer orders?" Megatron snapped, as he strode over to the dark Decepticon. Soundwave immediately retrieved a datapad from subspace ready for Megatron's inspection.

'The new main communications officer? That would explain why he is here. As I understand, he comes very highly recommended from several of Megatron's more loyal generals.'

Megatron scrolled down the datapad before nodding.

"Your early. Datatrip will get you familiar with our systems." The mechinoid in question raises his head upon hearing his name mentioned, and turns slightly to regard Soundwave. Noticing Datatrip's acknowledgement, Megatron returns his attention to the console and screens near the centre of the room, while Soundwave approaches Datatrip.

I watch for a while, but it quickly becomes clear that a state of 'work as usual' has returned to the command centre. Silently I slip out of the central command centre, in search of a little less crowded control room to retrieve the file I want.

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_T.B.C. in Part 3: A more through search._


End file.
